Roughly the size of the office, this room seems newer, and slightly more polished. With two beds chiseled out of each side wall and a hammock strung across the back, plus various cubbyholes for the inhabitants to store things in, it looks cozy and a touch snug. Sand tablets already nestle in one niche, while bright spirals of replacement string fill another, giving a welcoming and expectant air to the entire area.

Aliana's jovial stature stands almost five feet in height and can best be described as sylphid. Effeminate and delicate in shape but neither gaunt nor emaciated in form, her slender frame bears a creamy-white complexion that contrasts nicely with her long brown cascading hair. Aliana's heart-shaped face is amiable and refined, featuring small lips and natural contours that exemplify idyllic harmony. Her eyes are of a vivid blue color, flanked by short eyelashes and possessing a rather resplendent sheen. Adolescence has begun to change Aliana from a girl to a young woman, most noticeably by the slight disproportionalities of her arms and legs. Her body is gifted with subtle curves and one day she may be rather comely, but right now she would be much more accurately described as adorable rather than sensuous. Her voice is a low sophrano, rich in timbre but untrained and flamboyant at times.

Black-brown hair, glossy in nature, drops to her shoulders when not held back in a loose runnertail. Fine bones are balanced by wide angles along her face; a flattish nose resting in the midst of pink-tinged cheeks. Wide-set eyes are almond-shaped, giving all of Pern a calm regard from beneath elegant brows. Her skin is clear and golden, caught between dusky and smooth with the faint sheen of good health.

A loose white blouse of sisal rests low on smooth, golden-skinned shoulders. The sleeves fall to fairly thin wrists, where the fabric is gathered and then continues a few fingers' widths in a showman's frill. Below middling neck, the blouse gently follows womanly shape to slender waist, where it is tucked into a harper blue skirt. Spanning to about a hand's width above her knees, the pleated skirt rustles quietly with her movements. A natural golden hue to thin, well-shaped legs is heightened by a healthy sheen to their silky smoothness. Short boots of white-dyed wher hide have a low heel that barely raises this young woman from her height of about 5 feet.

Aliana has the glows mostly covered, but not completely so there is enough light to look about and get a vague, if shadowy idea of the walls and furnishings. She's not sleeping, but is seated at the edge of her cot beside her pillow. Allie is in her sleeping robes, however, and is wearing a light scent as she catches up with her day before bed. She turns her head towards the doorway when she thinks there might be someone approaching.

Cymri smiles again, head ducking a bit shyly, almost, as she takes a seat on the closest empty cot. Her movements bring forth the vague scent of sun and earth, her usual, natural fragrance alone, as she slips by. Only after she has settled, perched on the cot's edge, does she look up again, one brow raising elegantly as her lips pull into a faint frown in the soft light. "Dreaming? Of what sort of things?"

Aliana replies, "Oh, of harper things, I suppose...", her voice sounding airy and confiding at the same time. "I wonder when I'm going to sing like Elise and Tenya can, or make up songs of my own that sound pleasant to the ears.. or dancing with someone so nice and handsome, or holding a girl in my arms."

Cymri nods a little bit, slowly, and takes a moment before she responds. Then, her voice is soft, easy, "I know how you feel." Simple, but sincere. Eyes flicking up, brown nearly black in the darkness, she offers a faint half-smile, "I mean, I tell myself that ... things like that don't matter." She breathes out in an /almost/ sigh, "That men don't. And long nights don't." Smiling again, she tucks a loose strand of hair behind one ear and continues, "I mean, it's not like I'm some proddy greenrider, right? It's just ... I /am/ a woman."

Aliana blushes just a tad, but you see the harper's eyes glow effeminately with compassion. "What does matter, Cymri? That you're able to do your chores every day? I guess... as a harper, that's all that is important to me. Have you ever looked at someone right in the eyes and.. felt every single ounce of skin in your body just tingle?"

Cymri nods agreement, and then blinks, eyes widening a touch at the last description. She licks her lips, breathes in slowly and out a bit unevenly, before answering: "Yes. Or...well, yes." There's no 'or' about it, really. Her gaze turns dreamy, for just a single moment, before her eyes refocus, set. "But, it doesn't ... it doesn't always last, Allie." Her voice is harsh at the end, firm, and she swallows before finishing, "Sometimes, it's all just a game. And it ends." And /that/ is why the chores are what matters.

Aliana giggles softly, clearly just because of the conversation and not because she's laughing at you. Gracefully, her hand floats in the air towards your cot, fingers slightly curled downwards. "So tell me about him, Cymri... someone else told me that's what it feels like, but.. I haven't felt it before." Truth is, Allie is growing and she's not so certain about herself anymore.. but the harper's voice is more dreamy than she is serious. "This game just seems different from the other ones.. why else are there so many harper books on it? Will I be able to write a story as good as those one day? I.. have so much to learn, Cymri."

Cymri smiles a bit at that, "Oh, you haven't?" And she shuts her eyes, dusky voice slipping once more into a dreamy stage, if only to please her friend. "It's... marvelous. Like," she lets out a chuckle of her own, eyes flicking suddenly open again, "Like that first moment before you taste a bubbly pie, when you can *almost* taste it on your lips, and you're just full of the scent of it. Except, it's even deeper sometimes, so that it just rocks you to the core to take a single glance at him -- your eyes meet his, and you're lost." Her voice fades, trails off, "Positively lost..." Of course, Cymri's leaving out how your stomach turns bitter, revolted, at his name, once it's over. Instead, her voice turns faintly sad, ponderous, "And then, after a while, it seems kind of like flying *between*, or peering over the edge of an enormous cliff... You know you're going to be okay, and yet ... it's just so dizzying, for that one moment." With a sudden intake of breath, she straightens, fussing with her skirt, and pulls her features into perfect composure -- utterly blank of all but a serene, aloof sort of look. "But maybe I'm just being dramatic. Anyway," she leans forward with a faint smile, one hand touching yours lightly, "I'm /sure/ you'll learn all about it. And maybe even go on to sing one of those truly /good/ ballads, rather than the bawdy kinds the riders sing in the caverns when they're too drunk to walk hardly..."

Aliana closes her eyes for a moment, thinking to herself, 'mmmmmmmmmmm.....' Or perhaps she even might have made that sound. "You'd make such a good harper, Cymri, if you can describe things like that." Her eyes open when her hand is touched. "Maybe that's a good thing, before when they are drunk, everything sounds good to them."

Cymri blushes, pink infusing golden cheeks, at the compliment. Tones almost fussy, she demurs, "Oh, no, I wouldn't at all." Still looking a bit awkward, she offers, "Besides, I don't half know how to warble, and I certainly couldn't play an instrument if all of Pern counted on it." Taking up the last comment for refuge, Cymri smiles, "Then again, they'd really slaughter the more complicated songs, if they even tried to sing them."